The unique lou fox, p.12
The Unique Lou Fox, page 12
“Ew.”
I tried hard not to be totally grossed out. I failed, but if I was going to be the best big sister, I’d have to figure out a way to deal with stinky poop. Ick. “Maybe Lexie or Nakessa could give me a few lessons, before the babies are born.”
Dad’s eyes sparkled. Was he going to cry? “Those babies are so lucky.” He pulled the covers up higher, right under my chin.
“What’ll happen tomorrow? Who’s going to take care of Mom while I’m at school and you’re at work?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m sorting it all out.” Dad yawned, tweaked Pearl’s snout, and then kissed me on the forehead. “You need a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow’s your big day.”
“Yes, it is.”
In fact, it was mon-u-men-tal, which means extremely important. Fingers not crossed; I’d make Mrs. Snyder proud.
Chapter 36
Not Easy
But Worth It
The rehearsal at lunch had a few bumps. Big Jack forgot his line again.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m more nervous than when I recited The Cub Scout Promise in front of my pack. I barfed on my cubmaster’s shoes.”
“Yuck.” I thought of my stage fright. “I know what it’s like to get so nervous it’s hard to speak. Thankfully, I’ve never thrown up on anyone’s feet.”
“Yeah, but what about the play? What am I gonna do?”
“Good question.” A few days earlier, I might have asked myself, What would Lexie do? But instead, I thought about how making all the big decisions about the play had hurt my friends’ feelings. Hurting my friends was not a very Louisa Elizabeth Fitzhenry-O’Shaughnessy thing to do. “Hey everyone,” I called to the cast. “Who thinks Big Jack should say whatever pops into his head when he’s onstage?”
Everyone raised their hands.
“Now you don’t have to worry about remembering any lines. Just say anything at all. Okay?”
Big Jack’s whole body relaxed, as he let out a long breath. “Okay, I can do that.”
“I know you can, son.” I drawled like Grammers. “I’m more certain of that than I am about the sun rising in the east every mornin’.”
Big Jack blushed. “Uhm, thanks. I think. I’m just glad you’re not mad at me anymore.”
* * *
As we waited in the hallway outside the gym for our turn, my legs jellified. I grabbed Lexie’s arm. “I think…I think I’m going to faint.”
“Impossible. You’re our fearless director!” Lexie did an extremely good impression of me.
I broke out laughing. Shaking out my arms, I willed my nerves to settle down. “Okay, everyone. I want you—I mean—on behalf of Lexie, Nakessa, and myself, I’m hoping you all break a leg out there!”
“Break a leg?” Little Jack’s voice rose two octaves. “Why would she want us to break our legs?”
“It’s just a funny theater superstition,” Sophia Wabash explained to him. “It’s bad luck to wish someone good luck in the theater.”
“Huh?” Big Jack grunted. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s simple. No wishing going on here!” I laughed. “Only broken legs!”
Nakessa peeked through the crack between the gym doors. “Some second grader is juggling tomatoes! Two smashed onto the stage. Poor kid.”
I slowly exhaled. One more act—another juggler—but this time a fourth-grade girl juggling four oranges. Then we were up. Big time, here we come.
* * *
When our turn arrived, I stood in the middle of the stage with a classroom scene set up behind me. Students sat at desks on one side of the stage, pretending to be silently reading. The teacher’s desk was on the other side of the stage.
I looked at the sea of faces staring back at me. Packed full of people, the gym looked huge from up here. Clearing my voice, I spoke into the microphone. “H-Hello, I-I’m Louisa and we-we…” my mouth dried.
Oh, no!
Not stage fright again. I glanced over at Nakessa and Lexie on the other side of the stage. They both gave me a double thumbs-up.
Swallowing, I looked across the audience. Mrs. Snyder stood at the back of the gym. She slowly nodded at me. This wasn’t going to be easy, but it would be worth it. I can do this. “Our class would like to d-dedicate our play…to our teacher, Mrs. Snyder, who always gives second chances and who works hard for us every single day.”
The cast started cheering. Mrs. Snyder’s face went super red, and her smile? Even from up here, I could see it was ra-di-ant, a fancy way of saying it glowed.
“And…I’d also like to dedicate the ghost in our play to Nakessa’s grandmother, Mrs. Kaur. Now, without further ado, I present The Haunting at Lakeside School.”
Chapter 37
Fun. Better
Than Perfect
I scurried to the side of the stage to stand beside the tomato juggler. “Good try with your act,” I whispered.
He smiled. “Thanks, next time I’ll use apples.”
“Woooooh!” Nakessa moaned from offstage, out of sight of the audience. “Where are those naaaasty children?” She swooped onto the stage, her white sheet billowing behind her. “Mwwwwahahahahaha!”
Everyone leaped out of their desks, screaming and shouting, “Get away!” and “No!” They ad-libbed like professional actors. Running around desks, Nakessa chased them one by one off the stage.
As planned, only Little Jack remained, and he scurried under the teacher’s desk. He peeked out from underneath and looked right at the audience. “Oh, no!” he cried. “The Ghost Principal Kaur Choo got all my friends!”
I shook my head. Little Jack wasn’t supposed to speak to the audience. This wasn’t that sort of play.
“What are we going to do?” Little Jack bellowed.
“Keep hiding!” A kindergartner shouted from the audience.
Giggles rippled through the gymnasium.
Little Jack disappeared under the desk as Lexie raced onto the stage. With her wand held high, she looked around the classroom. “I have to stop Principal Kaur Choo, before she possesses everyone in the school and turns them into ghosts, too!”
She raced offstage.
Shrouded in white bed sheets, the now possessed fifth graders drifted back into the scene, moaning, “Wooooh. Wooooooh. Wooooooooooooh.”
Then one ghost drifted herself right off the stage. “Oooof.”
“Ghost down!” said the juggling kid next to me.
“Sort of like your tomatoes,” I muttered.
“I’m okay,” the fallen ghost shouted as she crawled back onstage, joining the ghosts as Nakessa began to sing.
“Lakeside school is haunted now,
haunted now,
haunted now.
Lakeside School is haunted now!
Look out! Or you’ll be NEXT!”
The entire ghost crew joined in for another verse before moaning their way offstage, just as Lexie appeared on the other side. Gripping her homemade Harry Potter wand, she tiptoed to center stage. “I can’t do it alone. If only I had help. Someone the ghost wouldn’t expect…” Lexie sat at a desk. “Hey, little ant.” She pretended to pick something tiny off the desk. “Better go hide, or you’ll be turned ghostly—wait! That’s it!”
Lexie waved her wand in large swooping arcs above her head. “Hocus pocus, spell please focus. Make this ant understand me.” Her voice grew louder as she spoke, in a perfectly magical way. “Please help me set everyone free!” She flicked her wand. “Anto Helpo Presto!”
Sophia Wabash leaped onto the stage. Dressed all in black, she had a sparkly, silver princess tiara wedged on her head between her black pipe-cleaner antennas. “I’m the queen of Lakeside School’s ant colony, and we won’t allow any ghosts here!”
The ant colony scurried onstage, bumping into each other as they lined up behind her. Their antennas wobbled.
“Come on troops!” Sophia Wabash shouted. “Let’s show this ghost who’s boss!” She broke into song,
“The ants came marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah!
The ants came marching two by two,
to save the school from Mrs. Choo…”
All the ants joined in, marching on the spot, pumping their arms high. Their antennas kept time.
Nakessa charged onstage. “Wooooooohhhhhh! I’ll get you too, Queeny!” She reached for Sophia Wabash who tilted her head to deflect Nakessa. The tiara caught on Nakessa’s ghost sheet. Snagged, Nakessa jerked back, ripping the crown from Sophia Wabash’s head. The tiara flew toward the first row of Kindergarteners. Mrs. Muswagam leaped in its path, catching it in the nick of time.
Thankfully, Nakessa didn’t get flustered. She remembered her next line and swung around to the teacher’s desk. “I smell more fifth-graders!”
Little Jack scurried out from under the desk, screaming. “Someone help me!”
Big Jack raced across the stage and leapt in front of Little Jack, holding his custodian’s toilet plunger high. “Get back from Big Bad Jack!”
Not even close to the line I had written.
The whole gym broke up laughing. Big Jack joined in. Also not in the script, but I couldn’t help myself. I started laughing too.
Lexie shouted, “Principal Kaur Choo. Why are you doing this?”
“Because I failed a student. Long, long ago. Rebecca Le Croix was her name. She wouldn’t listen. She never did her homework. I’m sure she never amounted to much.”
“Rebecca Le Croix? She’s my mother!” replied Lexie.
“Rebecca had children?”
“Yes, there’s five of us.”
“So, I didn’t fail her. That means, that means…” Nakessa fluttered her arms to the sides, billowing her sheet. “I can stop haunting Lakeside School and journey to the great…beyoooooond!” She drifted across the stage and out of sight.
The remaining ghosts tore off their sheets, cheering. “We’re free!”
Ants, students, Lexie, and Big Jack then began to sing.
“Ding dong,
the ghost is gone,
the ghost is gone,
the ghost is gone,
ding dong, Kaur Choo is gone!”
I ran onstage and shouted, “The end!”
The audience rose to their feet cheering. At the back of the room Mrs. Snyder wiped her eyes, then cupped her hands in front of her mouth. “Bravo!” she shouted.
The cast stood in two long rows and bowed. Lexie looked at me when they stood upright. “Come on, Lou Fox! Take a bow!”
I squeezed in between Nakessa and Lexie right in the center. We bowed. Then bowed again. My heart raced, but this time in the very best of ways. At that moment I felt like a real, live playwright. Mrs. Muswagam was right. We had needed an audience.
* * *
All the way home, I replayed every moment of the play. It certainty hadn’t been a Broadway masterpiece. For sure it wouldn’t be nominated for a Tony Award, but boy did we have fun. We’re already planning a holiday play. So far, we’ve all decided there will be dreidels, Christmas trees, Chinese dragons, hoop dancers—and Little Jack wants a yeti.
As I turned down my street, I was so full of joy that I felt like skipping. But skipping in fifth grade is a lot like growling—socially unacceptable. Instead, I threw a cartwheel and followed it with a front walkover. Once I reached my front yard, I did a handspring onto the soft grass.
I bounded up the front steps, excited to tell Mom about the talent show. The very second I stepped inside, I heard the jingle of dog tags, and a familiar voice called my name from the kitchen. “Louisa!”
“Grammers!!” I zipped down the hallway, sliding across the kitchen floor.
There she was, standing by the sink with a tail-wagging Velma beside her. “We’re here to take care of y’all!” She opened her arms. I raced into them. Grammers. The wish, I didn’t dare to wish had come true.
Chapter 38
The Best
Wish of All
Mom, Grammers, and I were dipping tofu chocolate-chip cookies in almond milk when Dad arrived home.
“Dad!” I raced to the front door. Velma was right at my heels. “Grammers is here! She’s going to take care of Mom and help with the babies. She’s even going to help me paint my new room.”
He laughed as I pulled him toward the kitchen. He gave Grammers a big hug. “Thanks for coming, Mom. I wish Dad could be here too.”
Grammers pulled back, wiping her eyes. “Your father is smiling down on us. And there’s no need for thank-yous. Family does for family. That’s it, and that’s all.”
“Nadine, did you talk to Lou about the babies?” Dad asked, as he snagged a cookie.
“I thought we’d do it together.” Mom took Dad’s hand.
“The babies?” My heart thumped in my chest. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course, Bugsy.” Dad smiled. “We have your very first big-sister job.”
“Really? Okay.”
“We’d like you to pick out their names,” Mom said.
“Are you serious?” I put my cookie on the table.
“As long as it isn’t d’Artagnan.” Dad chuckled.
Mom frowned. “d’Ar—who?”
I laughed. “Just leave it with the big sister.”
Velma pushed her snout under my hand. Her classic request for ear rubs. A low rumble began in her throat as I obliged. She tipped her head back and howled.
* * *
That night, Mom, Dad, and Grammers tucked me in. Velma curled herself into a ball at the end of the bed.
“It’s getting kind of squishy in here,” Dad said, laughing. “Is there even room for poor Pearl?”
“Oh, hogwash.” Grammers sat on the bed next to me. She kissed my nose. Then she kissed Pearl’s snout. “There’s always room for family.”
Mom stood in the doorway with her arms folded over her tummy. “A playwright for a big sister. These babies are very lucky.”
I bolted upright. “The babies! I have a list of names. It’s on my desk. Can you pass it to me, Dad? But don’t peek.”
He handed me the sheet.
“These are my top twenty picks. I think we should vote. The babies need the best names, names that will get them started off right. You know, on their best foot forward.” I laughed. “I guess I should say, on their best feet forward.”
Cozy under my covers with Pearl, my chest radiated with warmth. Ju-bi-la-tion—a million-dollar word meaning complete joy—filled me. The babies were lucky, but I was even luckier. One day, I’d have a Broadway audience, but right now, my family was the best audience I could wish for.
“All right, here we go.” I glanced at the names I’d picked. “How about Lexicon and Nakessor?”
Grammers’ eyes got wide.
“After the Bendables,” I explained. “My best friends—Lexie and Nakessa.”
“Uhm…” Dad shrugged. “I…”
“So, that’s a no?” I asked.
Mom started giggling. Grammers joined in, followed by Dad. Velma began to howl. We laughed until tears ran down our cheeks.
I was surrounded by love.
Some things would never change.
The End
Mom’s Tofu Chocolate Chip Cookies
• 2 cups flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• ¼ teaspoon salt
• 1¼ cup brown sugar
• ¾ cup vegan butter
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• ⅓ cup soft tofu
• Chocolate chips—the more the merrier!
Instructions:
1. Preheat oven to 375ºF
2. Stir flour, baking soda, and salt together and set aside.
3. In a separate bowl, blend tofu until fluffy.
4. In a third bowl, whip butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy—about two minutes.
5. Whip in the tofu.
6. Slowly add the flour mixture.
7. Stir in the chocolate chips.
8. Dollop two-inch balls onto a parchment-lined cookie sheet.
Bake for ten minutes. They will seem not quite baked in the middle, but once cooled they’ll be delicious.
Acknowledgments
Writing is a solo activity, but the stories writers create can be made stronger with critique partners who give honest feedback. Thank you to Louise, Alice, Deb, and Candice for killing my darlings when I was too chicken to do so. And to my long-time writing group The Anitas, your friendship and support is a highlight in my writing life. I may have stopped writing a hundred times over without your gentle encouragement. Again, I thank McNally Robinson Booksellers for allowing The Anitas space to meet and critique each other’s work. You are a pillar of Manitoba’s writing community and I can’t imagine a Winnipeg without you.
Finding a great publisher who shares your vision is like winning a cosmic lottery. Working with Pajama Press feels as if I’ve won the biggest lottery in the publishing world. Gail Winskill is a writer’s dream publisher. She connects with the characters and stories she selects in a way that is deeply personal and it shows in Pajama Press’s award-winning list. Early on, editor Erin Alladin gave me hope and a chance to revise and resubmit my manuscript. I’m so very grateful to Gail and Erin for their belief in Louisa and her story. A huge thank you to Kathryn Cole who shared her editing wisdom and answered my many questions, teaching me in the process how to see my work in a different way. Finally, to Peggy Collins who brought Louisa to life with her cover illustration. Lou Fox looks exactly as I imagined her to be.
To my dear friend Colleen Nelson: I need an entire page to fully express my gratitude not only for introducing me to Gail, but for your support and friendship from the very moment we met so many years ago. Our writing sessions with Maureen Fergus, i.e. wine and gripe nights, inspire me to continue writing.
